Cape Town
22-30 January 2005

Not quite Africa?

............


During my first trip
to South Africa in 1984
at the height of apartheid
which was invisible to me
walking the streets of Jo’burg
South Africa struck me as
more like America
than anyplace else.

Europe is so tense, in comparison,
communicating less openly
and
South Africa and America share
ebullience, aggressive business cultures, and
comparable racial compositions (though not proportions)
so I felt quite at home here.

It’s still true.
and I still do.

So much so that
Rik and I decided for the first time
to vacation in Cape Town this week
We needed sun
and good prices
and my friend Ingrid
had tips on where to go.
The “free” KLM ticket (on miles)
topped it off.
with a non-stop flight to Cape Town
across the great African continent

hours of brown Sahara.

An Inspiration!
and certainly
not a disappointment.

Rik has never been to Africa
so I had to tell him gently
that he wasn’t going to be in Africa
Now.

The guidebooks say
that most tourists here
remain in the former “white” areas
And that’s very true.

Our guest house
hugs the edge of the towering Tafelberg mountain
which is lighted magnificently
as only a truly rich country
could or would.

Such opulence!
I can’t deny
that we are enjoying it
Especially when mixed with
excursions to visit
extraordinary scenery
and eat wonderful foods
and visit spectacular vineyards
and drink wonderful wines.

One cannot forget
that this wealth lies atop
the vast poverty beneath
our feet

I have to reflect
on why it took so long
for South Africa’s fascists
to realize
as they did in the American South
forty years earlier
that legal restrictions on the poor
are not needed
because the laws of economics and tradition
are much stronger.

In fact, did they do anything much different
than white power structures do elsewhere
by other means?
Was the world being hypocritical
by attacking them for
crossing the line into
legalized racism?

No.
The terrible crimes of the Nationalist fascists
who brutally terrorized the non-whites
for decades
will not be forgotten.
But was that what
inflamed the outrage of the world?


Of course, the racial breakdown in the RSA
is different than in Alabama
and if 80% of the voters
are poor and maybe angry
any democracy might tremble

In South Africa
there now is a surprising alliance
between the new burgeoning black middle-class
and the old white rich one
The ANC has even now merged
with the Nationalist party!

And in Cape Town
the poor
remain mostly out of sight, still segregated
in townships – both coloured and black
and shanty towns
despite ten years
of majority rule.
Interesting.

The post-apartheid regime
has taken no visible steps
to re-populate
Cape Town’s district six
the former downtown neighbourhood
from which people of colour
were forcibly removed
in the 60s and 70s.

Perhaps it took those 40 years
since JFK
for the fascists to realize
that their best friend
would be black rulers
who share their interests.

Of course, I am being most unkind,
uncharitable
and possibly unfair and
or inaccurate.

It is certainly just
for those who can succeed
to do so.
As they have.

And it’s also true.
that poverty is a most sticky condition
unchangeable by legislation, or even money.
I don’t know the answer.
I wish I did.

And I wonder at the patience
of South Africa’s poor
confronted by such splendour.

Will their trust in the ANC continue
after Mandela dies?

And I long
for some displays
of social solidarity
rather than the repeated scandals
that the newspapers revel in.

But is this prosperity built
truly on the backs
of the poor?

Is cheap labour still
needed for South Africa’s success?

Perhaps no longer
except of course in agriculture and mining
Whatever the case
It was on the back of the African poor
that Europeans built their futures here
not so long ago
the English came
for gold and diamonds, needing cheap mine workers.
True conquistadors, despite their pretensions
to being a
civilizing force.

And Empire – Rhodes (was he gay?)
dreamed of dominions stretching
from Kenya to Cape Town
his roadside monument here
remains prominent
and evokes memories
of Franco’s in Spain.

Interesting how the Dutch – my Dutch
seem to have had softer ambitions
here
sending their own poor farmers
to grow renewable resources
to feed passing merchant ships
en route to the Indies.

Of course the English, in 1806
ended the slavery that
the Dutch had used for 150 years
but replaced it quickly
with an indentured servitude
not so very different.





Tuesday, 25 January.

We arrived Saturday night at midnight and, after a long
line at customs, we
were picked up by a snazzy Mercedes with a uniformed
driver. My dream of
having a person bearing a sign with my name on it to meet
me at an airport
was finally realized.

We stayed Saturday night at Acorn House, a VERY charming,
small guest house
in Oranjezicht for a very good price. Keep it in mind.
The slight, black
hostess, Janelle, was perky, informative and charming.


We transferred Sunday to Die Tafelberg Guesthouse, run by
Belgians Ann and Chris. It is spacious and modern and has spectacular views of the city and the bay.
And rather too much marble.

Our room is large and sexy, with a Persian open shower built
for two, and with
lights over the bed.
Did I give that impression on the phone?

Sunday, we walked down Company Gardens into town,
stopping at the South African Museum of Fine Arts
to view Dutch masters
and tribal art.

We went shopping at Edgar’s because
I needed walking shoes
but my poor feet are too big
for any stores outside of
America.


Then we went to the marvellous mountainside arboretum at Kirstenbosch
(founded by an ancestor of Ingrid)
and heard the Sunday outdoor concert
on the vast lawn
surrounded by hundreds of blond families.
How can even this beautiful thing
be SO segregated?

But the concert and setting were
Delightful!
I napped. I am finally feeling my pent-up
fatigue.

Returning to the guest house, we had a crazed but
friendly cab driver, who
wanted to take us to a gay bar called The Bronx, and told me
to "hou Rik vast"
when the other boys see him. We didn't go.

We had dinner at Kennedy’s Restaurant (good) on Long
Street downtown (which felt threatening).

Monday, we took the revolving cable car to the top of
Tafelberg.
Spectacular!! Views of the Cape, and oceans and marvels!

Monday evening, I took a cab to Woolworth’s and got us
food for dinner,
which we ate on the terrace at the guest house, admiring
the spectacular
clouds and moon over the bay, and swallowing two bottles
of lovely white
wine in the bargain. Bosa Nova music was playing.
and I hummed
Moon over Miami.

Tuesday, we rented a car, and went to the historic
vineyard Groot Constantia (beautiful!).

As late as 1800
There were only 1000 whites here
planted by the Dutch VOC
to feed their ships
en route to Asia.
Only then did the VOC realize
that South Africa’s wines
could be sold at great profit
in Europe and they controlled the farmer’s
prices on wine
until the farmers rebelled.

We tasted and bought delicious
wines, and most of the other visitors
were also gay couples
It seemed.
It’s so nice that we are protected
by this country’s
Constitution.

We drove from Groot Constantia
to Stellenbosch town (sunny) (the winery there had just
closed), then drove
(N310) across the peninsula and along the costal road
(M6) winding our way
past spectacular beaches back to Cape Town, climbing
Chapman’s Peak and
stopping to eat good steaks at Marc’s Grill in Houtbay. The
waitress there was
quick, kind and charming.


Wednesday, 26 January

We went to the bottom
of the continent
Cape of Good Hope
more or less
And sampled unpopulated vast sandy beaches
and drove back
the only tourists ever (probably)
to drive Chapman’s pass
and eat at Marc’s Grill in Hout Bay
two days in a row!
The only difference was
that I had the filet (best ever!)
instead of T-bone
and Rik had 8 giant prawns
instead of the line fish
of the night before.


Thursday, 27 January

Our tour of the Townships
with Mandisa of Pride Tours
was special because
she told us her girlhood story.
Her mother and father – who were dark, black
reclassified her and her brother
to the lighter, more privileged “coloured”
to enable them to live in the nicer
coloured townships and use those schools.
The price of course
was that they could not speak
their own Xhosa language
with its distinctive “clicks”
even in their own home
because the neighbours, if they heard, would realize
that they were really black
and they would lose their home.
Even at school, as a girl,
Mandisa did not want to be seen with her darker parents
for fear
of being revealed.

She now struggles
with the bigger, white-owned tour companies
that get the lucrative groups
I regretted that Rik and I
were only a group of two.


Saturday, 29 January

After 2 lovely days
lying by the pool + dinner
+ reading Bernard Shaw’s Pygmalion
we ventured out
to dinner at Franschhoek
an hour east – past Stellenbosch
in a rented red car
for one final evening
before our departure.

I drove on the left, with a manual transmission!
very well, and considered that this
shift to driving in the left lane
is one of the few times
that a person ever
actually changes his paradigm
reversing all of the assumptions
about movement, expectations, dangers
maybe because
your life depends on it.

Franschhoek is a dorp so beautiful
that its sole main street
is lined with attractive restaurants
some very fancy
We had mussels in white wine sauce
and duck à l’orange
40 euros for 2, with wine.
such a bargain!
This place is so terrific
that Sotheby’s Real Estate
has already set up operations
to sell great properties
to the rich.

We flew back to Cape Town
along the N-1
descending into the city
in time to pack and make
the midnight plane
non-stop flight
back to the rain
of Amsterdam.

But we’ll be back!


…………………………
Bob Bragar
31 January 2005